Neighbors
by Penelope Cross
Summary: Santana has been moving for years. Place to place she goes and nothing ever sticks. When she arrives in small town Lima, OH, she's almost positive it won't stick either. When she finds a friend in her eccentric neighbor, the fabulous boy who runs the Salon below their apartments and a few of their other friends, she realizes she might just be home. Slightly AU? Brittana.
1. Chapter 1

**_AN: _** Hey all, long time no see. I know, I still have a lot of unfinished business and I've disappeared for a long time, but I'm back, at least for now. Neighbors is a piece I've been working on for a while and I have it on my tumblr, but I'm hoping maybe to reach more people via . So, I hope you enjoy and just know that I'm looking over my old fics to do edits, rewrites and finish (in the case of Brittany and the Beast, in time.) Also, I know this is short, but the next part is quite long. Just stick with me. Hope you all are fantastic.

* * *

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Santana groans, turning over in her bed. She hisses as she rolls right into the light filtering through her shades. She always forgets to close them when she goes to bed. She buries her face into her pillow.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

"What the fuck," she grumbles, lifting her head and opening her eyes. Her body stretches and collapses back onto the bed. She groans loudly. "Who the fuck is that." She turns over, looking at the clock on her nightstand.

9:07.

It takes a few more seconds of blinking to shake away the confusion and realize the sound isn't coming from someone knocking on her door.

_Thump. Thump._

It's coming from her wall. The wall she shares with her neighbor.

She pulls herself up, glaring hard at the wall. "Fine," she mumbles. She stretches, crawling out of her bed. She doesn't bother to brush her teeth or check herself in her bathroom mirror. She grabs her jacket off of her dresser and shoves her arms angrily into the holes. She slides her bare feet into her shoes by the front door, throwing it open. She steps onto her small metal porch and blinks, trying to adjust her eyes to the light mid-morning light.

She runs down the steps, hearing the faint echo of another three _thumps._

She reaches the bottom of her steps and walks quickly behind the back of the small building. She stands at the bottom of her neighbors stairs looking up. She folds her arms over her chest and inhales slowly. Slowly, she takes the first step, then another.

She thinks about how she didn't get home until almost three in the morning, a mere six hours ago, and her pace quickens. She's nearly running when she steps in front of her neighbors identical front. She opens the screen and raises her hand to knock loudly.

The door opens.

"Yes?"

Santana blinks, hand still raised. She stares for a moment, mouth slightly open, eyes narrow, head cocked. The person staring at her is not who she expected to see at all. A girl about her age, with blonde hair, the bluest eyes and the most curious smile.

"Can I help you?" she asks Santana.

Santana quickly closes her mouth, lowering her hand.

"I heard you coming up the stairs."

Still Santana says nothing. She clears her throat and takes a step back, regretting the action as soon as she does it.

The girl smiles, pushing the screen door open wider and holding it for Santana. She doesn't speak.

"What was that noise?" Santana asks.

"What was what noise?" the girl asks.

Santana narrows her eyes. "The thumping. The thumping that woke me up."

"You were sleeping?" The girl asks tilting her head slightly.

Santana watches as those blue eyes look her up and down. She narrows her own. "Yes, I was sleeping. It's early."

"It's nine."

"Well," Santana begins. "It's got to be at least nine thirteen now and I was sleeping."

"I didn't mean to wake you," the girl says leaning against the door frame and smiling her slight smile again.

Santana stares. "What were you even doing?"

"Hammering."

"Hammering." Santana repeats slowly.

"Yes, hammering." The girl nods once as if to help Santana confirm the statement.

"You were hammering this early?"

The girl shrugs. "I didn't think it was that early."

"Well there are other people here for you to consider," Santana snaps, crossing her arms over her chest.

The girls expression changes, her head tilts again. Santana watches closely as her neighbors eyes travel down and up again. The action makes her body hot with nerves. "The salon has been open since eight," the girl says.

"I'm not the salon," Santana spits back.

"Obviously," the girl says with a small giggle, looking at Santana's hair.

"Okay listen," Santana says, losing her patience. "I work late. I get home late, I get to bed at around four _maybe_, if I'm lucky. I don't appreciate you hammering, and not even the good kind of hammering, this early. So stop."

The girl nods as she listens and stares at Santana for a few seconds after she's stopped talking. "I'll stop," she says.

Santana stares for a moment. "Well good...then."

"You're welcome," the girl says, smiling.

"I didn't say thank you."

A moment of silence passes between them. Santana looks down at her work shoes.

"Can I get your number?" the girl asks.

Santana's head jerks up. She stares at the girl hard, mouth open slightly. "What?"

The girl shrugs. "We're neighbors, I already have your address." She stops, standing up straight. "That way if my hammering ever bothers you again you can just call me."

"So this hammering is a habit of yours?" Santana asks, rolling her eyes.

The girl frowns slightly. "Not sure yet," she replies in earnest.

Santana is quiet for a moment. "Do you really want my number?"

The girl smiles again. "I like making friends. I also like having more contacts in my phone than everyone else."

"Are you fucking with me?"

"Not yet."

Santana stares at the girl. "You're insane."

"No, I'm Brittany," Brittany replies, smiling.

"Brittany." Santana has never had a friend named Brittany before.

The name feels smooth in her mouth.

"Give me your phone," Santana says softer than she means to.

Brittany nods her head. She reaches into her pocket and hands her cell phone to Santana. She watches as Santana's fingers move quickly over the screen.

"Santana?" Brittany says the name slowly, looking down at the screen of her iPhone.

"Yes."

"Like the band?" Brittany says, looking up and grinning.

Santana exhales sharply, closing her eyes, patience wavering again. "No, not like the band."

"Just Santana then."

Her eyes meet Brittany's for a moment before she looks away. "Yeah, just Santana."

"What are you doing tonight, Santana?" Brittany asks, sliding her phone back into her pocket.

"It's my day off," Santana supplies without meaning to. She narrows her eyes. "Why?"

"Well, it's mine too. I was wondering if you'd like to get to know your neighbor better. I know I would," Brittany says. "And no, I'm not fucking with you."

"I didn't ask," Santana snaps.

"You looked like you were thinking it," Brittany says. "I'm going to Beiste's tonight with my friends for dinner. Come with us. It'll be fun and you can get out of your apartment without having to work."

"I haven't been to Beiste's," Santana says. Her skin growing hot again.

"I know," Brittany says. "I work there. I would have remembered you."

"How many friends?" Santana asks, choosing to ignore Brittany's comment.

"Four of us all together, five including you."

"So I'd be the fifth wheel?" Santana asks, unimpressed.

"What has five wheels?" Brittany asks, face scrunched in confusion.

Santana narrows her eyes. "Is that a joke?"

"No?" Brittany replies, cocking an eyebrow up. "Either way please come. It'll be fun. My friends aren't fun but I make them fun."

Santana glances down, shifting her weight. "Alright," she replies. "What the hell."

"Awesome," Brittany says, eyes meeting Santana's as she looks up. "Sorry about the hammering."

Santana shrugs. "I'm up now, might as well continue."

"I promise, the next time I get hammered I'll ask your permission first or for you to join me."

Santana opens her mouth to reply but Brittany cuts her off.

"Now I am fucking with you. I'll see you tonight. I'll pick you up at seven."

"You'll pick me up?" Santana raises her eyebrows. "You'll pick me up?"

"Well, I invited you and I already know your address," Brittany sing-songs.

"Fine," Santana says, turning away.

She's halfway down the stairs when Brittany calls after her. "Nice to meet you just Santana."

Santana pauses midstep, half tempted to turn around and make a sarcastic comment. She shakes her head, continuing down . She hears a light laugh and the door to Brittany's apartment shutting.

She shoves her hands into her pockets as she climbs her steps. She pulls open her screen door and takes off her jacket, leaving her apartment door open. She folds her jacket over her arm and heads to her bedroom, setting it on her dresser. She sits on the edge of her bed and kicks off her shoes.

She closes her eyes for a moment. She pulls her legs onto the bed, turning on her side and staring at the wall. She waits for the thumping to begin.

* * *

She snaps awake, sitting up quickly and looking at her bedside table.

The clock reads 11:23.

She stares at it for a moment. She isn't sure why she's smiling so softly.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: _Hey guys! I wanted to update this every Friday but decided to come a day early. I've been up since 5 this morning running and doing and it is Halloween and it's been a good week and I got ahead on chapter 3 so I wanted to share. It's quite a bit longer in comparison to the last chapter. I hope you guys enjoy!

* * *

"Did Brittany tell you she's bringing a date?" Quinn asks taking a sip of her water and glancing towards the bar and frowning.

Kurt's eyes widen and he sets his drink down. "A date? Aren't these friend dinners supposed to be _friend_ dinners?"

Mercedes sighs, rolling her eyes. "Don't be bitter," she teases, bumping her elbow against his gently.

"Mercedes, not all of us have a million jobs to distract us from the fact that we're single and begrudgingly bitter," Kurt explains, relaxing back against the chair.

"It's not an actual date. She's bringing her neighbor, the one who moved into the other apartment," Quinn explains, focusing her attention back to her friends. She grabs a roll from the basket in the middle of the table, ripping off a tiny piece and popping it into her mouth.

"I haven't met her yet," Kurt says, grabbing a roll and pulling it in two, watching the steam rise. He blows on it lightly. "The Berry's didn't introduce me to her yet, scheduling conflicts. Apparently, she works late night shifts at a restaurant."

"In town?" Mercedes asks, eyes scanning the bar now.

"I don't think so. They didn't really tell me much either than she paid two months rent up front in cash and had great references," Kurt says, shrugging.

"Well if Brittany likes her," Mercedes begins. "She's got to be at least a little bit interesting."

Quinn sighs loudly. "Where is Sam? I _need_ a drink."

"He isn't at the bar," Mercedes says quietly, eyes roaming over the moving waiters, waitresses and customers.

"He'll pop up as soon as he realizes you're here," Kurt reassures her before smiling slyly at Quinn.

Mercedes eyes dart quickly to Kurt. "Be quiet and focus on your bread."

"Yes, ma'am," Kurt pops a piece of the roll into his mouth, winking at a smiling Quinn.

"What time did she say she'd be here?" Kurt asks, pulling his phone from his pocket and checking his last text message from Brittany.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Something obscure like 7:36, you know how she is."

Mercedes giggles as Kurt smirks.

/

Santana paces back and forth in front of her dresser. She stops, staring hard at herself in the mirror. She looks down at her phone. She touches a button on the side, lighting up the screen. Five minutes until Brittany comes to collect her.

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes. "That chick is goofy," she mumbles, grabbing her phone and sliding it into the back pocket of her jeans. She collapses onto her desk chair, swiveling back and forth.

She slides her fingers over the mouse pad of her laptop lighting up the screen. She hears the creak of her screen door opening and three light taps.

Her eyebrows scrunch together. She stands up, moving through the kitchen, opening the door.

Brittany is smiling brightly and Santana can't help but smile back, just as wide.

"Ready neighbor?"

Santana loses herself for a moment, taking in Brittany's high ponytail, loose fitting shirt and tight jeans. She nods once, grabbing her keys from the hook by the door and follows Brittany down her own steps.

/

Brittany drives an old green Jeep that Santana has to climb into, a feature she really hates in cars.

"A Jeep?" Santana asks, eyebrow cocked as Brittany adjusts the volume of the radio.

"It belonged to my dad," she says shrugging. "It was free and sometimes when I crawl into it I feel like going on an adventure." She backs out of the parking lot behind the salon.

Santana stares at her for a moment before shaking her head and turning her attention to the windshield. "So, your friends...do they know I'm coming?"

"Yep," Brittany says, popping her lips on the end of the word. She drums her hands on the steering wheel to the beat of the music, eyes never leaving the road. "I think they'll like you."

Santana shrugs. "Maybe once they get to know me."

"Well, I like you already," Brittany says, glancing over.

Santana's grinning before she even realizes.

They sit in silence for a while as Brittany drives. Santana tries to keep her fluttering hands still, but they won't seem to rest anywhere, she settles with holding her phone, pressing the buttons on the side, locking and unlocking it.

"Mercedes will like you," Brittany says, finally breaking the silence. "She's great, but she's always busy. She does a lot of community work."

Santana nods, trying to take in Brittany's words.

"There's Kurt, he works in the salon below us."

"Wait, is he one of the old gay guys that interviewed me?" Santana cocks an eyebrow, glancing sideways at Brittany.

"Gay yes, old no, he's our age," she explains, flipping her turn signal on and merging into the right hand lane smoothly. "That was Mr. and Mr. Berry. They own the salon, Kurt just runs it most days. He's really good. He cuts my hair." Brittany smiles.

Santana nods. "Is there a discount since we live there?"

Brittany smiles wide. "He'll usually trim mine for free, but we've been friends for a long time now."

"I guess sleeping with him for a free hair cut is out, huh?" Santana asks.

Brittany looks at her, smiling wide. "You could try."

They fall into silence for a couple of seconds. "Quinn is working part time at the newspaper and in school part time. She lives with Mercedes."

Santana nods thoughtfully. "Anyone else I should know about?"

"Hmm," Brittany hums, pulling into the parking lot of a very large road house style building. _ Besite's Bar and Grill_ is lit up in giant neon letters. The parking lot is full.

"Sam. He works at the bar, he and I are pretty close," Brittany explains. "And the owner, Shannon. She's great."

"You work here?" Santana asks, eyebrows raised as she takes in the very gruff exterior of the building.

"Don't let the appearance fool you, it's the best food in town...not that there's that many places to eat out in town," Brittany says, parking the car and removing her keys. "Ready?"

Santana opens her car door and slides out of the jeep, her heels clacking on the pavement. She shivers, surprised at how cold it is and how the sky is nearly dark. She slowly steps around the Jeep onto the sidewalk leading to the entrance of the restaurant.

"Hey Brittany," Santana stops.

"Yeah, you okay?" Brittany asks, stopping beside Santana, head cocked.

"Yeah," Santana replies, feeling her palms sweat. "Just...thanks for inviting me out."

Brittany beams so wide it takes Santana off guard for a moment. "That's what neighbors are for." She links their arms together and pulls Santana to the entrance.

/

The inside of Beiste's is bigger than Santana anticipated. There are booths lining the walls, tables spread out everywhere, a stage shoved in a corner and a long rectangular bar in the middle of the room. Everything is ruddy and made from wood, the walls covered in an odd mix of beer memorabilia, rusty looking farm tools and pictures of local attractions.

"What the heck are you doing in here, crazy?" Booms a voice. Santana jumps and stares up at the large figure standing before them.

"Shannon, you know I can't stay away," Brittany replies.

"I know, your deadbeat friends are at their usual table," the tall woman replies, motioning to a corner of the restaurant.

"Before I head that way, meet my neighbor," Brittany says, pulling Santana forward. "This is Santana Lopez," Brittany introduces with a nod. "Not like the band."

"Hi," Santana says loudly over the bustle of the restaurant.

"Shannon Beiste, but you can call me Beiste," Beiste replies shaking Santana's hand, nearly crushing it.

A retort forms on her lips about Beiste's size and grip and choice of work, but one glance at Brittany's grin makes her swallow the comment. "Nice to meet you," Santana says through grit teeth, trying to not snap her hand away.

"Have fun guys, holler if you need anything Brittany," Beiste says, turning her attention to the small family walking in behind Brittany and Santana.

"Thanks Shannon," Brittany calls in her quiet voice. Shannon waves once without looking away from the group standing before her.

"That's my boss," Brittany needlessly explains as she leads Santana to the back corner of the restaurant. "She's awesome. How's your hand?"

Santana flexes her hand slowly, looking down at it. "I thought she broke it."

Brittany half smiles, "She's a gentle giant, but you gotta watch the grip. She hugged me once super tight on my birthday and I think she might have cracked a rib."

Santana isn't sure if Brittany is joking or not.

She lets Brittany lead her past the full tables and waiters moving quickly around the floor. Everyone either waves, nods or addresses Brittany by name. Santana watches closely, Brittany's smile never breaks, her voice always genuine.

They slow as they approach the table in the back corner. "Now don't let them scare you," Brittany whispers as she pulls Santana forward.

/

Santana finds herself sitting on the edge of the circular booth right beside Brittany. She can smell Brittany's perfume, it smells better than any brand she owns.

"Introductions," Kurt begins, clearing his throat. "Hi," he says, smiling at Santana. "I'm Kurt, Kurt Hummel. I work at the salon."

"Brittany told me," Santana says, nodding. His movements are precise and just short of a flourish. Everything about him screams gay to Santana; his perfectly manicured nails, his pressed clothing, his fastidious hairdo and his manner of speaking. She thinks he might be the fanciest person she's ever met.

"I'm there most every day so feel free to come down and see me and this," Kurt continues, placing on arm on the blonde woman sitting beside him. She's dressed in a simple black and white dress, her long hair pulled up into a loose bun. She smiles at Santana hesitantly.

Santana nods back, forcing a weak half smile.

"This is Quinn Fabray. Part time journalist for the _Lima News_, part time student at the Lima Community College," Kurt explains removing his hand from Quinn's shoulder and points to the last person sitting in the booth.

"And this is Mercedes," Kurt begins.

"Hi," Mercedes says, smiling brightly at Santana and offering a little wave, the silver bangles on her wrist jingling. She wears her hair down and wavy, her black shirt hanging off one shoulder.

"Hey," Santana says back, glancing around the table and realizing all eyes are on her.

"Mercedes works in the mayors office on top of doing more volunteer work than humanly possible. She's the good one out of all of us."

"Kurt," Mercedes starts, rolling her eyes. "I'm very active in my church is all."

Santana nods. "It's nice to meet you all," she says slowly, glancing from person to person, trying not to linger too long on any individual.

"So, Santana," Kurt begins taking a sip of his drink. "You know what we do, but what is it that you do? Hiram told me you worked at a bar? Is it one in town?"

"Are you a bartender?" Brittany interrupts, looking quickly at Santana. "That would be pretty hot."

Santana smiles, looking from Kurt, to Brittany's bright eyes. "No, I'm not a bartender. I, uh," she hesitates, looking away as Mercedes makes eye contact, which she quickly breaks. She takes in the cross necklace around Quinn's neck. "I work at Platinum on the next exit."

"Oh," Quinn says, setting her drink down.

Mercedes doesn't say a word, just listens.

Kurt makes an odd humming noise in the back of his throat.

Santana doesn't even look at Brittany. "I'm not a stripper," she says quickly. "I know it's a strip club but I'm a waitress. I'm hot and I make good tips. I don't hate myself enough to be a stripper."

The entire table goes deadly quiet. Santana's heart races, she knows that silence. She glances from face to face. "That's usually not the reaction I get when people realize I'm not a stripper," she mumbles, hands folding and unfolding the napkin in her lap.

She steals a glance at Brittany. Her head dipped down, her smile gone, her eyes staring intently into her glass of water.

"Brittany?" Santana says quietly. Her heart pounds harder, her palms sweat, she glances around to the others, waiting for someone to give her the answer. She becomes very aware that she is an intruder into their normal routine.

Brittany looks up. "I used to dance there." Her expression doesn't change.

Santana's heart nearly stops, her mouth opening. "Fuck," she says, gripping the napkin in her hand hard and shaking her head. "Damnit, Brittany, I didn't mean it like that," she tries to back track, tries desperately to find the right words. "People just act like I'm stupid when they know I'm a waitress but when they find out I'm a waitress at a strip club?"

"Santana," Brittany says, looking up and meeting Santana's eyes. "It's okay. I understand." She half-smiles and Santana can tell her heart isn't fully in it. Brittany looks around the table. "Guys, it's fine."

"I'm so sorry," Santana says, sighing heavily and shaking her head again. She sits back against the booth. "Remind me to kick my own ass later."

Brittany giggles and the entire table relaxes.

"Seriously, it's no big deal, you didn't know," Brittany reassures quietly.

Santana nearly jolts when she feels Brittany's warm hand touching her knee gently. She turns to look at Brittany, but she's already starting another thread of conversation with Quinn. Santana's heart begins to pound in a completely different way.

/

"I need another drink," Quinn says, looking around for their waiter.

"Isn't that your third," Mercedes remarks as she quirks an eyebrow.

"Listen, mother superior, my mom has Beth for the night, I'm getting another drink."

"Okay, but I'm drawing a line at three drinks because I can not handle demon Quinn tonight," Kurt says as he sips his martini.

"Who's Beth?" Santana asks before she can stop herself, pulling apart a mozzerella stick. She winces as she drops the food, steam rising from her plate. She doesn't miss the way Brittany giggles at her.

"Beth is my daughter," Quinn explains, making hard eye contact with her.

Santana nods, holding Quinn's gaze. "Cute name," she says, offering a half smile that she knows looks more like a smirk.

"Thanks." Quinn softens and pulls out her phone. "Here's a picture."

Santana takes the phone and feels Brittany leaning closer to look as well. "She's adorable," Brittany whispers against Santana's ear. Brittany's hot breath on the shell of Santana's ear makes Santana want to shiver. The feeling sends a twinge of fear through her whole body and she hands the phone back a little too quickly, clearing her throat.

Quinn opens her mouth to say something when another person approaches the table carrying a tray full of drinks.

"Bahama mama for the hot mama," the new comer says, setting the drink in front of Quinn. "Another martini for my favorite bro, iced tea with seven lemons for milady and a sex on the beech for my other favorite bro." He stops, looking Santana over before setting a drink down in front of her. "I didn't get your order so I guessed. I'm Sam."

He smiles wide and Santana can't help but stare at his large lips. "Hi Sam," Brittany says waving as she takes a drink.

Santana bites her tongue, feeling a scathing comment just waiting in the wings. She takes a sip of her drink instead. "It's good, what is it?" She asks.

"Electric lemonade," he says, sliding into the other end of the booth by Mercedes. Santana doesn't miss the way he grins at her and the way she smiles softly back. She doesn't say a word and looks back to her tumbler full of blue drink. "I'm more of a vodka and tonic kind of girl."

"It's vodka based," he supplies. "Part of the way there."

"Sam, you are a godsend," Quinn says, setting her drink down. "And that's really good, I can't even taste the liquor."

Sam winks at her.

"Ah, finally, a pixie stick martini that doesn't taste like cough syrup," Kurt says, sipping at his purple drink and smiling at Sam. "You've got to teach that new guy how to mix drinks properly or I'm going lodge a formal complaint."

"While you're at it tell Beiste to give me a raise," Sam says, stacking up the empty cups and moving them to his end of the table.

"How's the tea? Brewed it myself," he tells Mercedes.

She rolls her eyes and mixes the lemons into her drink. "I think I could have used more lemon," she says turning to smile at him.

"They put a limit on you now, you know? At the bar, we've got your picture and it says to cut you off after seven lemons."

"Sam Evans," she begins.

"Cross my heart and hope to cry," he says, crossing his pointer finger over his chest. "Help a guy out, Britt."

Brittany shakes her head. "I ordered extra lemons on the last truck."

"So how are my favorite people?" Sam says, changing the subject as Mercedes opens her mouth.

"Sam," Brittany interrupts. "This is Santana, she's my new neighbor."

"Ah, here I was just calling you electric lemonade in my head," Sam says smiling at Santana.

Brittany and Mercedes giggle.

Santana tries to smile but it doesn't come.

"Just a joke," he assures, holding up both hands in surrender, the tray he used to carry drinks sitting in his lap. "I wish I could sit and chat to you bums all night, but some of us gotta make a livin'," he says sliding out of the booth and stacking the bussed dishes onto his tray. "I love you all."

The group returns his words in a chorus that makes Santana's lips twinge up into a small smile.

"Nice to meet you, Santana," he says as he leaves.

Santana doesn't miss the way he nods to Brittany and she nods back.

"Told you he'd come by to see you," Quinn says as she takes another sip.

"That boy is so smitten with you, everybody can tell but you," Kurt says, staring Mercedes down.

"All of you be quiet," Mercedes snaps back, smiling.

"Sam really does care about you," Brittany says in her soft voice.

Mercedes pretends not to hear.

"He's cute," Santana adds to the conversation. Everyone's eyes turn to her, she swallows, remembering she's a guest in this tight knit group of people. She glances at Brittany quickly before exhaling to keep her cool. "Cute, but not my type. Plus, I just got here and I can tell he's into you."

Mercedes glances down at those words, smiling softly to herself.

"Just sayin'," she says, taking a long pull from her drink.

Brittany elbows her side gently and Santana can feel Brittany's smile.

/

After they've had time to let the liquor and food settle and laughed until most of the other patrons have begun to filter out of the restaurant, they pay their checks and get up to leave.

They stop to tell Sam good bye at the bar and Mercedes lingers while the group moves on. Shannon stops them at the door to give them a warm good bye and tells them to come back, Santana especially. Quinn links arms with Kurt and he walks her to Mercedes car humming lightly.

Brittany giggles and links her arm with Santana's. "Quinn is tipsy," she says and Santana watches how Quinn's walk would be swaying if Kurt wasn't holding tight onto her.

Santana nods.

"Stop being nervous, they like you," Brittany reassures. Santana looks at her and opens her mouth to say something but nothing comes out. "And I like you, you'll fit in perfectly."

Quinn exhales loudly. "You guys are the best," she says, leaning against the passenger door of the car.

"Oh boy," Kurt says, hands hovering nervously around the wobbly Quinn. "You're drunk."

"Nah," Quinn reassures. "Just one too many mamas for mama."

Even Santana laughs at that. Brittany feels warm chuckling against Santana's side.

"Is she angry yelling yet?" Mercedes asks as she approaches the car, clicking a button on her key chain to unlock the vehicle. It chirps once.

"No, she's assuring us she isn't drunk," Brittany says, sliding her arm slowly from Santana.

"Well good," Mercedes begins as she pulls Brittany into a tight hug. "Poor thing doesn't need to get worked up anyway."

"What did Sam have to say?" Brittany asks wiggling her eyebrows.

"Hush you," Mercedes says, turning to Santana. "It was really nice to meet you, Santana," she says stepping forward.

Santana pulls back a little when she realizes Mercedes is going to hug her. "Calm down, girl, we hug here." Mercedes hugs her gently, letting her go after a small pat on the back. "That wasn't too painful was it?"

For the millionth time that night Santana feels a sharp retort forming on her tongue but pulls back at the last second. Instead she tries to force a half smile that she knows always comes out in a smirk. "It was nice meeting you too."

Mercedes nods and steps around the car to hug Kurt and kiss him on the cheek. They all step aside as Mercedes backs her car out of the parking spot and drives off.

Kurt waves with his fingers before turning to look at Brittany and Santana. "Now that's a sitcom just waiting to happen," he says. He hugs Brittany tight and kisses her cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, I'm sure," Kurt says stepping away. He eyes Santana up and down and holds out his hand. "I'm not going to force love on you like Mercedes."

Santana smiles and takes his hand. "I appreciate that. It was nice to meet you Kurt."

He nods and smiles at Brittany before sauntering off to his car.

Brittany turns to Santana and raises her eyebrows. "So?"

"So?" Santana repeats as they walk back to Brittany's Jeep.

"What do you think?"

She unlocks the car and they both climb in. Santana buckles her seat belt and looks over at Brittany. "I think I really like them."

Brittany laughs, a full laugh, and Santana smiles.

"I think they like you too."

Santana shrugs, looking ahead as Brittany backs out of the parking lot. "You got my good side tonight. I'm usually a bitch, don't you remember?"

Santana looks over in time to see Brittany's forehead crinkle. "I don't think you're a bitch."

"I was so rude to you earlier," Santana says looking back at the road.

Brittany shrugs. "You were tired. I'm grumpy when I'm tired."

"Grumpy?" Santana repeats, chuckling. "Yeah, that's it, grumpy." She rolls her eyes.

"Well, I just like you. You ever meet someone and know you're just meant to be friends?" Brittany asks and glances over at Santana before back to the road.

Santana is silent for a moment. "I guess I do now," she says slowly. She doesn't have to look to know Brittany is smiling just as wide as she is.

/

When they pull up behind the salon and park and Brittany slides the key out of the ignition they sit for a moment in silence.

"I'm sorry about the stripper comment," Santana says suddenly. Her own words surprise her and she looks up at Brittany, wide eyed.

Brittany stares back, her face unchanging. "It's okay."

"I didn't mean it like that, about you," Santana begins, feeling the nervousness in her stomach causing her hands to flutter.

"Santana," Brittany interrupts. "It's okay and it's not something I like to talk about."

Santana nods, looking away. She unbuckles her seat belt and Brittany follows. They slide out of the Jeep and walk towards the back of the salon in silence.

"So," Santana says.

"So," Brittany replies. "I'm glad you came," she says and wraps her arms slowly around Santana, hugging her tight.

Santana doesn't hesitate to close her arms around Brittany too.

Brittany turns her head and kisses Santana on the cheek and Santana's heart flips in her chest, she sighs and is just about to turn her head when her entire body tenses. She pulls away quickly and stares at Brittany, still wrapped up in her arms.

They stand in silence for a moment.

"I- ," Santana starts and Brittany shakes her head and pulls away gently.

"Sleep well, Santana," she says, turning and walking to her stairs, disappearing quickly up them.

Santana stands for a moment before turning around and heading up her own steps, her head buzzing.


End file.
